


the elemental.

by m_rosenkov



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Prompt Fill, Romance, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_rosenkov/pseuds/m_rosenkov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Air stings,<br/>Earth shakes,<br/>Fire burns,<br/>Water cools,<br/>and Magic shines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the elemental.

**THE ELEMENTAL.**

**m. rosenkov**

* * *

 

**Prompt: Tell me what Trevelyan sees in Hawke, no use of body parts**

* * *

**Hawke is Air:**

He rushes into her life, a gust of wind, sweeping up all the broken pieces of her in his tempest. In his raging storm she stands, sturdy and sure as all the bits of her soul are blown away, until there is nothing left but him.

And then, there is calm. He ruffles her hair, cooling breeze tracing her cheek, eyes swirling depths as each piece of her falls back into place, no longer broken. She stares, amazed that he is wild and he is peace, he is harsh and he is soft—amazed at how Hawke is _air_ , a gentle breath, welcoming and beautiful, rustling everything in his calming wake.

**Hawke is Earth:**

He is a raw, earth-shattering power. Each word he speaks rumbles the very fibre of her being, and when he laughs, the tide rushes to shore and she is pulled to him like a puppet, all fumbles, giggles, blushes and smiles. Like leaves too heavy from rainfall, water drips from his hair, falling into his beard where each droplet suspends, misty as dew on grass when she touches his face, drinking him in with dashes and strokes.

And beneath her touch, he is seasons, cool and warm, freezing and _hot_ ; like magic he burns and perishes, he blooms and falls. Hawke is _earth,_ so solid and sure beneath her touch, that she believes one lifetime with him will never be enough.

**Hawke is Fire:**

He rages on the battlefield, spreading out fast and manic like a wild blaze, scorching all who touch him or stand against. His amber eyes burn, and he roars like dragon, threatening and menacing and enchanting, so supernatural and unreal she can barely take all of him in at once.

And then he kisses her. And he is warm. Like the fire that glares beneath her mantelpiece, she is his fuel, sparking him alive, and lighting up the room in a spectacular display of warm colour and heat. His touch is a tickle of flame on her skin, passion dancing up and down, heating the bitter cold of her bones, and Hawke is _fire,_ so overbearing and so perfect, he lights up her life like the golden sun.

**Hawke is Water:**

He is the essence of her—of life—and she drinks him in with all of her being. He is cool to touch, and calm to watch—his voice crashes like waves, with hair that smells like the Waking Sea—

And he tastes like rain. Fresh and cool, he falls into her, filling every imperfection and gap and doubt she ever had like a dry riverbed after a storm. She is the earth and he is the river; shaping her into the perfect landscape, and Hawke is _water,_ so gentle and moving, cool and welcoming, that she prays to the Maker drought will never come.

**Hawke is Magic:**

The silver moon drips from his very being, beams of light dazzling her eyes, and he is the stars, burning hot and fast and caving into her, and she knows this:

That Hawke is _magic_ , everything this world is made of, perfections and imperfections, stitched together and cloaked with enchantments, mystic and whimsical, chaos and order, and he is _hers._

* * *

 

_A/N: My first story on this site! So I apologise for any formatting errors or anything. Thanks for reading :)_

 


End file.
